


We cut any hair!

by lonely_night



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: I KNOW AND I'M SORRY, I copied the jingle from Horrible Histories, M/M, NEWT'S A HAIR DRESSER, Okay get ready for this, Sarcastic Humour, don't judge me please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonely_night/pseuds/lonely_night
Summary: Newt's a hair dresser at 'we cut any hair!' which is the crummiest hair dressers in town where all the creepy people go.Naturally, this is where Mary Lou takes Credence when she can't cut his hair.(THIS IS NOT AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE - Newt still does magic)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't jumped off the Crewt train yet and probably never will do you've got to put up with me forever - sorry!!
> 
> This is a little shout out to Horrible Histories as well for being the best thing about my childhood! The jingle is adapted from 'we sell any monk', in case you were wondering ;)

Mary Lou had been busy.  
Very very busy.  
Extremely busy.

She was busy with the church, she was busy with the society, busy making leaflets, busy teaching as many people who would listen about the devil among their very selves.

She'd been so busy in fact, that she'd forgotten to cut Credence's hair for the past three months.  
As a result, it had grown long, unruly, and unholy.

Normally, she cut the boy's hair with scissors. And so, she advanced towards Credence's mop of dark hair, brandishing the sharp scissors threateningly.  
However, no matter how much she yanked, tugged, pulled and prodded, Mary Lou could not cut the hay stack that was Credence's hair.

Eventually, she gave in.  
Mary Lou was going to have to take him to the hair dressers.  
The most inexpensive one in town, mind you.

 

Newt had been working at 'we cut any hair!' for about two months now.  
Not that he enjoyed it particularly, he just had to so he could actually earn some money. The problem was that being a magizooligist really didn't earn you much money; hopefully his book would though, when he'd finished.  
Working at 'we cut any hair!' really was quite annoying.  
Not only was it muggle, it was also infuriating to not say, 'here, take a growth potion'.  
Ugh.  
Worst of all, they really did 'cut any hair' - the amount of strange people who were probably criminals who came into the grotty studio per day was uncountable.  
Ah well, he shouldn't complain really - at least he didn't have to make eye contact with anyone.

The door opened with a ping, followed by the frankly horrendous jingle of 'we cut any hair! Any, any, any, any, any hair! We cut any hair - long hair, short hair, blue hair, bald! We cut any hair!'

To be honest, Newt always wondered how on earth you could even cut bald hair but there we go.

Staring wide-eyed at the horrific jingle, Newt's next customers walked in.  
Looking like they'd come out of a horror movie.  
Sighing, Newt got to work and hoped he wouldn't be stabbed.

Having somehow survived, Newt said a thankful and definite good bye and waited for the next lot of axe-waving lunatics to walk edgily through the door.  
Luckily, his next customers seemed more like they'd walked out of their own graves than put someone in a grave, so Newt smiled at them.  
The smile was not returned by any of the four.

Newt wondered whose hair he'd be cutting today, but, with a quick glance at them all, it was obviously going to the boy's. His hair was maybe slightly unruly, although, Newt admitted, he looked rather lovely with it so it would be a shame to cut it.  
The older lady pushed the boy forward, "cut his hair," she demanded coldly.  
Newt didn't bat an eyelid: he was used to it by now.  
Smiling at the boy who actually, up close, looked more around twenty than fifteen, he gestured to him to take a seat.  
Stiffly, the boy/young man sat down. It was the most uncomfortable chair Newt had ever sat on, he had to be frank, but the boy/man didn't bat an eyelid.

"So, what can I do for you today?" asked Newt, trying to sound welcoming.  
Instead of answering him, the boy's/man's eyes were locked on the mirror in front of him.  
"A bowl cut," snapped the woman, and, just as quickly as she'd replied, she rushed out, took off the boy/man's coat and covered the mirror with it.  
"Vanity is greed, Credence," sung the older looking girl, smugly, as she sat primly by the older lady.  
Credence didn't say anything but his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Can you relax for me, ... Credence, is it?"  
Credence nodded carefully and shifted in the seat but didn't relax.  
Newt began humming in a effort to unravel the tension in the young man's muscles.  
It was working until the older lady glared at him and he faltered to a stop.

After two minutes of uncomfortable silence, Newt asked if they had any errands to run.  
Still staring stonily, the woman took the two girls by the arms and announced they were going to deliver some leaflets and would meet Credence back at the crummy studio in an hour.

Once they'd left, an even heavier silence settled over them.  
"Credence... do you really want a bowl cut?" Asked Newt hesitantly.  
"I want whatever Ma wants," replied Credence almost robotically.  
Newt nodded and changed the conversation, "I really do need you to relax for me though."  
Credence nodded and Newt started rubbing gentle circles on his back.  
Stiffening up at first, Credence began to relax, whimpering quietly at the calming sensation.  
At the first groan of genuine pleasure, Credence clamped a hand over his mouth.  
"No, it's okay for you to express yourself," whispered Newt, gently removing his hand.  
Continuing for a while with the soothing circles, Newt lathered shampoo in his hands and threaded his hands through Credence's hair.  
Gently massaging his head, Newt saw Credence's eyes drooping and then snapping open again.  
"You can close your eyes if you want".  
Shaking his head, Credence didn't.  
"Please, I won't hurt you," reassured Newt.  
For some reason deciding he trusted this man, Credence closed his eyes and gave in to the sensations washing over him. Humming his approval, Newt went to rummage for the shower head and, turning it on, washed Credence's hair.

Newt, acutely watching Credence's face for any sign of displeasure, rinsed off the shampoo.  
Through a relaxed haze, a moan slipped through the young man's lips but he wasn't even aware of it, he was simply aware of Newt's calloused hands caressing his head like he cared.  
Shivering because of the pleasures noises that Credence was unconsciously making, Newt tried to focus on his work.

Gently blow drying and then combing his hair, Newt trains his eyes on the dark mop of hair that he has before him, trying and failing to ignore the little groans and sighs coming from Credence's red lips.

Then, Newt cut his hair into the restricting bowl cut which made him feel a little distressed as Credence looked so much more free with long hair.

A 'ping' noise, followed by the haunting 'we cut any hair!' jingle filled the room and Credence's eyes snapped open in shock.  
Quickly and efficiently, they paid and moved out of the studio.

Credence left.  
Newt wonders if he'll ever see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But, Newt was pleasantly surprised because, standing there, with a bemused look on his face (that damn jingle..!), was ... was ... "Credence!" greeted Newt, his fake smile quickly transforming into a very real one, "hello!"

A week later, Newt was still (annoyingly), working at the crummy, creepy, 'we cut any hair!' hairdressers.  
'Great', thought Newt, sarcastically, as he waited around for the next lot of passive-agressive, evilly-grinning murderers to make an appearance.  
Acio-ing random things was really starting to get a bit dull and even making things fly around the room was a bit boring - Newt worked on his book whenever he had free time but without his creatures to draw he couldn't make much progress, (he couldn't risk Muggles seeing them and freaking out, even if they were knife-bearing, hardcore, we're-not-scared-of-anything Muggles).

So Newt whiled away his hours wondering what Queenie, Tina, and Jacob were doing; they weren't working at 'we cut any hair!' for starters so they ought to be counting their lucky stars. It really was quite amusing that the 'we cut any hair!' Salon was so desperate for staff though because Newt's own hair was hardly exemplary.  
How on earth had he managed to land, headfirst, in the most detestable, most boring, most spine-crushingly dull - "we cut any hair! Any, any, any, any, any hair! Long hair, short hair, blue hair, bald! We cut any hair!"

Oh for goodness sake.  
The bloody jingle was the worst of the lot really.

Plastering a beaming smile on his face, Newt went to greet his new, no-doubt an evil mastermind, customer.

But, Newt was pleasantly surprised because, standing there, with a bemused look on his face (that damn jingle..!), was ... was ... "Credence!" greeted Newt, his fake smile quickly transforming into a very real one, "hello!"

After a brief and overwhelmed pause, Credence found the courage to whisper, "hello."  
"Errmm," began Newt, taken back by the young man's innocent beauty, "would you like to, um, sit down?"  
Credence nodded shyly and sat down gingerly, like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do, or wasn't used to doing.   
To set Credence more at ease, Newt brought up his chair and said next to him.  
"So! What can I do for you?" He inquired.  
"I - well I'm supposed to be delivering leaflets right now but ... I can't do -," he broke off, shaking.  
"It's okay Credence, shh, it's okay," soothed Newt, gathering Credence carefully into his arms who, after first stiffening, relaxed into his warm chest.  
"I'm sorry," he sniffed, "I don't even know your n-name."  
"Newt Scamander," said Newt smiling, and Credence thought the sun would be outshone by the inexplicable light and warmth radiating from this one, colourful man.  
"Mr Scamander," continued Credence, "I need to get out."  
"Newt -" Newt corrected gently but before he could say anything else there was a sharp knock at the door. "Give me a minute," he shouted.  
Quickly looked out of the window he saw that it was the woman who had been with Credence. The woman that neither of them liked.  
"Credence, I'm sorry but I need you to trust me," he said, turning his attention back to the shaking boy in front of him, "I'm afraid you're going to have to get into my suitcase."

For a minute, Newt was afraid Credence would protest but he didn't and quickly climbed into the suitcase, a look of slight bewilderment on his face.

"Hello," said Newt with a false chirup in his voice.  
"Hello," replied the woman, coldly, "I don't suppose you've seen my boy, have you? He was with you having his hair cut a week ago."  
"Oh?" Asked Newt, faking interest, "no, I don't believe I remember him? We have a lot of customers at the 'we cut any hair!' you know," said Newt knowing full well that they really didn't have many customers at the 'we cut any hair!'.   
And wow! Why does the name have to be 'we cut any hair'? It was so embarrassing to say out loud, Newt wouldn't have minded it was 'the hair dressers for murderers' or 'the worst place in town', or even if it was 'write on my gravestone 'I was only the hairdresser'.  
"Yes, of course, thank you for your help," the woman said sounding not at all thankful.

Back inside, Newt picked up his suitcase and turned the 'closed' sign to the outside. It was time to pack up.  
"I'm sorry Credence, I'm going to have to carry you (in this suitcase), to some friends of mine, is that okay?"  
There was a small mumble from inside the suitcase and Newt figured that'd do.

Walking through the busy streets of New York in the mornings was one thing but walking home always made Newt more uneasy because of the still quiet in the muggy air.  
Step after step after step, the air got slowly heavier and heavier and heavier and Newt swore he could see a man in the shadows, a man who wasn't old but wasn't young either, he was all in black... Newt kept moving - you never knew who could you meet in the dusky streets of New York.

 

Newt smiled as he saw his friends' apartment ahead of him, 'almost here now,' he whispered to himself and ... to Credence.  
He opened the door, smiling, and snuck up the stairs to the flat - their house keeper was really way too strict.

He entered his friends apartment and was greeted with beaming smiles.  
"Hey Newt! How was your day at work at 'we cut any hair! Any, any, any, any, any -"  
Jacob, who loved the jingle (annoyingly), was interrupted by Tina who grinned, "Newt, hi! Queenie and Jacob were just about to start making dinner - good timing!  
Newt laughed, "I'd say so!"

Queenie walked in, "oh hiya Newt! How was your day, honey?"  
Newt opened his mouth to tell her about it but, like usual, she answered her own question, "oh, really! That's so exciting! He's probably hungry down there, you going to to let him out?"  
"Oh no, Newt," wailed Tina, overhearing, "you haven't brought another magical creature back, have you?"  
"I- no," began Newt slightly defensively.  
"Oh you'll see!" Squealed Queenie, clapping her hands excitedly, leaving Jacob speechless with how adorably cute she could be. "Come on, Newt!" She giggled.

Newt sighed and set his suitcase down on the floor, "okay but I need you to give him some space, he's been through a lot."  
"Oh," said Queenie, her brow creasing, "sure Newt, I better be careful too with my Legilimens."  
Newt nodded before knocking on the lid of the case, "Credence?"  
There was a muffled mumble.  
"I'll come down," said Newt, and, turning to the others, he added, "I'll be back in a minute!"

Walking down the ladder, Newt smiled. There was something different about Credence, something so special, and he couldn't wait to find out what.  
"Credence," called Newt gently.  
There was a small noise from the corner, "Credence?" Newt peered around the edge of his bed and there was Credence, sat on the floor, rocking back and forth.  
"Get away from me!" Cried Credence is a voice that was not his own, "I'm a monster!"  
Newt looked closer and he could see black tendrils rising up from his body.  
Ah. That was it. Credence was an obscurial.  
Ohhhhhhhh right.

Taking Credence into his arms, Newt rocked him gently, making soft, comforting noises whenever he could be heard over Credence's whimpers.

Eventually, Credence calmed down.  
"You're a witcher," he whispered,  
"No. A wizard, yes."  
There was a pause.  
"Okay," replied Credence, "what am I?"   
"You're an obscurial, Credence, it happens when people try to force you to repress your magic... that you're still living with it inside you means you're powerful."  
"Oh," whispered Credence in a quiet voice.

A short silence descended.

"Hey," Newt whispered, "I've got some friends upstairs who'd like to meet you, do you want to meet them."  
"Yes," he replied shakily.  
"Let's go then," said Newt supportively.

They emerged from the suitcase slowly, with Newt at the front.  
"Oh!" Gasped Tina, "Credence, hi!"  
Credence looked up surprised, "Ms G-Goldstein?"  
"You two know each other?" Asked Newt, surprised.  
"Uh long story," muttered Tina.

"Anyway, hi!" Said Jacob, "I'm Jacob, it sure it nice to meet you, Credence."  
Credence smiled a little bit and looked down, "it's nice to meet you too."

"Oh, hey, you didn't tell me he'd be this handsome, Newt," said Queenie, grinning at him.  
Credence blushed and Jacob put an arm around Queenie, "hey, now!" He exclaimed jokingly.  
But suddenly tears began to form in Queenie's eyes and she drooped slightly, "oh, Credence, I'm so sorry," she whispered.  
"Queenie! Damn it, I knew this would happen!" Muttered Tina, rushing over to support her sister.  
"Have I - have I done s-something wrong, N-Newt?" Worried Credence, reaching automatically for his belt and giving it to the older man who looked at him, confused.  
"No! Credence, no! Stop, you've done nothing wrong, she was the one that was wrong!" Shouted Queenie desperately.

Finally, Newt understood what Credence meant and he took the belt and tossed it into the fire.  
"No, Credence, you've done nothing wrong," he whispered soothingly, holding Credence and talking into his hair, "oh, and by the way, would you like a growth potion for your hair?"  
A laugh bubbled up in Credence's chest and he nodded, ecstatic.

It was a simply a start, but that was all they needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew thank you for reading this!  
> Also, huge hugs to everyone who said I should continue this because I really loved writing it!
> 
> If anyone wants to know the song I listened to whilst writing this it was 'Je Vole' (I fly), by Louane - go check it out!
> 
> Thank you again to all!
> 
> I don't think I'll end up writing a chapter 3 but I suppose you never know!
> 
> Lonely_night xox


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Credence have a fun *wink wink* time!!

Tina, Queenie, Jacob, Newt, and Credence all sat down at the table to eat their evening meal. Despite the little mishap with the belt, everything was going reasonably smoothly, better than Newt could ever have dreamed.  
Credence finally felt safe and at home with the four of them, and sitting down to eat the amazing meal that Queenie and Jacob had cooked together made him feel like they were all a little family, a feeling which was far more pleasant than he had expected.

After the meal, and after the pudding of apple strudel, harmless chatter fluttered about from person to person. They were saying so much but at the same time not saying anything at all.  
"Newt, Credence, do you two want to sleep upstairs with us and Jacob tonight or would you rather be in the case?" Inquired Queenie.  
"Thank you so much for the offer, but to be honest, I'd rather be in the case - the creatures need feeding anyhow."  
"Sure, Newt," replied Queenie, smiling, "and you, Credence?"  
Credence had to admit that he'd rather stay with Newt in the case, it's not that he didn't like Queenie, Tina, or Jacob - he liked them very much, it's just that he felt safer with Newt. Without even having to reply, Queenie beamed at him, "that's no problem, honey, you do whatever you prefer."

Queenie's legillimens, although sometimes intrusive, was, Credence found, exceptionally useful to him in the fact that he didn't have to talk and she'd know why he was thinking - literally.  
Despite the wobble at the start with the belt, Credence was already growing fond of all of them, Queenie in particular, due to her inexplicable kindness.

  
Back in the case, after Newt had done his rounds and introduced Credence to everyone, Newt turned to him.  
"I'm afraid I only have one bed... I never really have any visitors, you see."  
"Oh," began Credence, "oh but it's alright isn't it? I can go upstairs if you want."  
"No, no," reassured Newt, "I'm sure we can both fit in this one."

Once they were both changed (Credence borrowing some of Newt's old pyjamas), they both slid into bed.  
Unconsciously, their legs intertwined and Credence shivered. Newt noticed.  
"Are you cold, Credence?"

Credence was not. In fact, he was boiling being next to Newt, but he didn't know what else to blame the shivering on so he said "uh, yes."  
"I'll bring the hufflepuff blanket up a bit more," said Newt, wrapping the warm yellow and black blanket around the snugly.  
Credence didn't know what or who a hufflepuff was but decided he'd ask Newt later; he didn't want to spoil this moment.  
Brushing some hair out of his eyes, Newt accidentally skimmed Credence's chest with his hand, "my, you are cold!" Murmured Newt in surprise.  
"Your hands are really warm," whispered Credence, revelling in the heat spreading throughout his body.  
"Oh, uh," stuttered Newt,"do you uh- would it help if I - um - touched you?"  
A blush spread from Credence's face right down to his toes but he suddenly realised that he would like Newt to touch him very much, "m-maybe." He said quietly.  
"Where are you coldest?" Asked Newt  
"My back," replied Credence truthfully.  
"Okay, turn around then?"

Credence turned around and Newt, lifting his pyjama top, gently but firmly pressed his warm hands down on Credence's bare skin. But what Credence had almost forgotten in the light of the moment was all his scars.  
"Oh, Credence," breathed Newt, shocked, as he traced the scar tissue carefully with his fingers.  
Credence, on the contrary, whimpered from the pleasure of having another person touch his scars so tenderly and so intimately, like he deserved care.

Pulled out of his trance by the noise from Credence, Newt moved on, past his scars, warming up his shoulders and the back of his neck with his careful touch.  
"Warm now?" Asked Newt.  
Credence nodded and turned back round so that he was facing Newt.  
Asking for permission, Newt let his hands hover in front of Credence's stomach and Credence nodded, almost desperate for Newt's warm touch.

Lifting up the front of Credence's top and placing his hot hands there on the pale skin earned a gasp from Credence and he flung his head back in ecstasy, groaning slightly and Newt traced his hands over his body, running his hands over his nipples, gently, worshipping him.

Newt's hands explored down, down, down, and then Credence simultaneously froze and groaned with anticipation.  
Newt's hands stilled with shock at where they were, and then he removed them, as if he was prising them away with effort.  
Newt's hands were back on his face, carefully, slowly tracing the deep hollows of his cheekbones and then, and then - ...

... and then Newt's finger was tracing the outline of his mouth and, before either of them knew it, his finger was resting gently on Credence's red lips and Credence himself forgot to breathe.

Leaning forward, Credence sucked slightly on Newt's finger which encouraged Newt to let out the moan he had been holding in for what seemed like a century.  
Smiling slightly, Credence took Newt's whole finger in his mouth, sucking a little more and then letting go with a slight pop.

Newt could restrain himself no longer and, pressing even closer to Credence, so close that they were practically one person, Newt pressed his lips to Credence's who just had time to realise how warm he was before all he could think of was Newt.

 

The next day, Newt and Credence walked into 'we cut any hair!' in order to get Credence the hair growth potion.  
They walked in, accompanied by, of course, 'WE CUT ANY HAIR, ANY ANY ANY ANY ANY HAIR! WE CUT ANY HAIR - LONG HAIR, SHORT HAIR, BLUE HAIR, BALD! WE CUT ANY HAIR!!'

"Merlin's beard! Not AGAIN!" Wailed Newt in despair.  
The jingle seemed even louder than usual and Newt glared stormily at the thought that one of maniac co-workers could have turned up the volume just to annoy him.

Credence snorted with laughter at Newt's outburst.  
"Don't tell me you actually LIKE it?" Said Newt incredulously, raising an eyebrow at his lover.  
"I don't know... I think it's got - what's the word? - character!" Replied Credence, grinning at him.  
"Well... I suppose if you like it maybe I won't hex it after all," muttered Newt, "you live to annoy people another day!" Said Newt, addressing the jingle menacingly.

"Now then, where's that hair-grow potion?" Hummed Newt, casting around for it, "come on, Newt Scamander, show they why (maybe 'why?' is the precise question), you became a hairdresser at the lunatic asylum that is 'we cut any hair!'"

At this direct address, the jingle went off again, "WE CUT ANY HAIR, ANY ANY ANY ANY -"  
"DAMN IT!!!" Glowered Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who's reading this for supporting me!!  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated, as always.
> 
> It's unlikely I will continue this little story but if I ever do it will probably be in a years time - sorry!!
> 
> All the same, hope you've all enjoyed it!! 
> 
> lonely_night xox


End file.
